


The Fool, The Prince, & The King

by TimmyJaybird



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [23]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, M/M, Multi, Trans Character, Vaginal Sex, completely non-dysphoric Yoosung, dom/sub hints/undertones, ftm Yoosung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Yoosung surprises Zen by stopping over to visit... and letting himself right into his home. And when Zen accuses him playfully of breaking in, Yoosung decides revenge is best served in an equally playfully and far more dirty way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The theme was "only human". It sort of... spiraled.
> 
> I HC Yoosung as a very confident in his body guy, and he's actually _okay_ with using slang for his genitalia. I know some trans folks aren't keen on that, so I guess this is a warning. If that makes you uncomfortable, give this one a pass.

Zen rounded the corner, panting in even breaths as he jogged towards his door. He paused to catch his breath, one hand splayed on it as he leaned forward, tipping his head down. His bangs were falling into his face, tickling his cheeks, his ponytail coming slightly loose. He wasn’t sure how long his run had gone for, but his legs had this sweet sort of ache in them, and he could feel sweat clinging to his spine.

 

He fished his hand into his shorts, pulled out his key and unlocked the door. He let himself in, shutting it behind him, heading for the kitchen. He tugged open his fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, mentally going over the scenes he needed to read through after he got a shower when-

 

“I was wondering if you were ever coming back.”

 

Zen let out a surprised yelp, nearly dropping his water bottle. He turned, staring with wide burgundy eyes, catching sight of Yoosung. He was grinning, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants- those ridiculous ones that dropped down to nearly his knees and clung to his calves and somehow looked  _ fabulous _ on him.

 

“Jesus,” Zen said, reaching up to his free hand and pressing it to his chest. “You scared me. What are you doing here?”

 

“Thought I’d surprise you,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “I got here and the place was empty. Let myself in.” He paused, smirked. “Shouldn’t have shown me where that spare key was hidden, I guess.” Zen said nothing, taking a deep, slow breath, before moving to uncap his water, taking a drink. Yoosung was watching him with those gorgeous, inhuman like eyes. Zen felt his throat closing, and it was hard to swallow. “You look really good when you work out,” he mused, as Zen pulled his water bottle from his lips.

 

“Well, I  _ am _ gorgeous,” he teased, capping the bottle and shoving it back in the fridge. “But I need a shower. Entertain yourself for a few minutes you little criminal.”

 

“Criminal? What’d I even do?” Zen walked past Yoosung, who turned, following him through the house, stopping in the hallway as Zen pushed the bathroom door completely open.

 

“Breaking and entering,” Zen said, gripping the doorframe. “Go do your homework, I’ll be quick.” He fought down a smirk over the way Yoosung pouted, before tugging the bathroom door shut. He tugged his shirt off, dropping it, just as he heard Yoosung’s fist pound on the door a few times.

 

“You  _ told _ me where the key was! Zen, I didn’t break in!” Zen chuckled, biting his tongue to keep it to himself, as he headed for the shower. He slid the door open, turning the water on, as he heard, “Zen! Zen you basically  _ invited _ me!”

 

And then Yoosung was drowned out by the water.

 

Zen finished stripping and stepped in, pulling the door shut and tipping his head back, facing away from the water and letting it run into his hair. He had half a mind to make this a  _ long _ shower, just to punish Yoosung. To keep him waiting- but Zen wasn’t mad at all. He really  _ had _ basically told Yoosung his door was always open, and if he came all the way across the city from Sky University, Zen figured he deserved a little reward for that.

 

Granted, he had no idea what Yoosung  _ wanted _ , but most of the time he didn’t want anything in particular. Just to exist in Zen’s space with him. And Zen could never complain about that.

 

He made his shower quick, washed his hair and the sweat from his skin, before killing the water. He pushed his hair back, squeezing the water out, before tugging open his shower door and grabbing a towel. A quick dry, and he was walking across the tiled floor, opening the door and stepping out onto the carpet. He paused, listening, trying to figure out where Yoosung had gone. He hadn’t  _ seen _ a bag, but he could have brought his laptop, left the bag in some other room. But the distinct lack of Yoosung yelling at LOLOL made Zen figure that wasn’t the case. He didn’t hear the television either- and for a brief moment, wondered if Yoosung had  _ listened _ and was actually doing his homework.

 

He crossed the hall, pushed his bedroom door opening, considering yelling out to his boyfriend- when he froze, his breath escaping in an audible gasp.

 

Yoosung was sprawled out on his bed. He’d stripped of those stupid-adorable sweatpants and his cardigan, was left in  _ just _ his tank top. He was arching in that very moment, his thighs open and his fingers working quickly between his legs, over his clit. His hair was fanned out over Zen’s pillow, his cheeks flushed as his hips rocked up, grinding against his fingers.

 

“Took you… long enough…” he breathed, looking towards the door. Zen stared, mouth agape, feeling his heart fluttering, fire pooling in his gut. Yoosung didn’t slow his fingers, and Zen swore he could  _ smell _ him, from where he was standing. He reached out, gripped the doorframe with one hand, eyes burning holes into his boyfriend. Yoosung didn’t smile, simply parted his lips and exhaled, a noticeable tremor going through his legs.

 

Zen moved then, crossing the room in long strides. He let his towel fall off his hips, crawled onto the bed naked, settling right between Yoosung’s legs. With a quick movement he swatted the blond’s hand away, sliding his arms under his thighs to curl his hands up as his hips, as he replaced where those fingers had been with his lips and tongue. Yoosung gasped, hips jerking up, grinding with against Zen’s mouth. Zen groaned, inhaled and felt  _ dizzy _ , his tongue working quickly over Yoosung’s clit.

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Yoosung gasped, curling his toes into Zen’s blanket. He’d already been close, Zen knew from the tremble in those thighs, but  _ god _ he was so much wetter than Zen anticipated. He groaned, nestling closer, the tip of his tongue driving over the head of Yoosung’s clit over and over again, until he felt Yoosung lifting his hips again, trying to fuck right against his lips. “How do you… always eat my pussy so damn  _ good _ ,” he gasped, and Zen nearly whined over that. It was a mingling of simply  _ hearing _ Yoosung talk dirty, and the fact that he had the confidence in his body to do so without a moment of hesitation.

 

He ground into his body, his cock hardening so damn fast he swore he’d pass out from bloodloss. Not that he cared- waking up between Yoosung’s legs was like a dream. He groaned, as Yoosung continued to grind against his mouth, all these little noises falling from his lips, until it was a wordless cry, and his hips were lifting, nearly jarring Zen right from his body. Zen gripped his hips tighter, squeezed the flesh there and lapped at his clit, as Yoosung’s breaths were ragged, his orgasm shaking through him until he collapsed back to the bed, limp.

 

Zen slowed then, turning to heavy laps of his tongue, the flat of it moving over that bundle of nerves, before he dipped lower, pushed his tongue against Yoosung’s entrance over and over again, lapping up the mess he was making. Yoosung whined, pushing himself up on his elbows so he could peer down his body, could catch the movements of Zen’s mouth against soft, wet flesh.

 

“You’re… too good at that,” he panted, and Zen lifted his head, flashing a devil smile.

 

  
“Complaining?” He turned, placed a wet kiss to Yoosung’s thigh, before he was trailing up, towards his hip.

 

“No,” Yoosung breathed. “Not at all.” He watched, one of Zen’s hands rubbing up his belly then, over soft flesh, beneath his tank top. Yoosung squirmed, before he was pushing Zen away, sitting up properly. Zen got on his knees, watching as Yoosung turned and reached for his nightstand, jerking the drawer open. He reached in, came back and tossed the torn open box of condoms at him, before getting up on his knees and turning away from Zen. He leaned into the pillows, lifting his ass and baring his cunt for Zen to see, smiling as he glanced over his shoulder. “Want me?”

 

Zen swallowed thickly, nodding, fingers barely able to dig out one of the foiled packages. He tossed the box aside, tearing it open, rolling the condom onto his cock and nearly fumbling. Yoosung gave a giggle, and Zen glared at him.

 

“I’m only human,” he mumbled, “and you’re  _ gorgeous _ .”

 

“Yeah well, I’m only human too.” Another wiggle of his hips, before Yoosung raised his ass higher. “I’m  _ weak _ when I think about you. How do you think I ended up here. Think this was my  _ plan _ the whole time?”

 

“With you?” Zen asked, straightening up and getting both his hands on Yoosung’s hips and ass, tugging him back. “ _ Of course _ .” He eased the tip of his cock along Yoosung’s warm, wet folds- a single teasing drag, before he was pushing into him. Yoosung groaned, turning away from Zen and dropping his head down. Zen paused, let Yoosung’s ass nestle against his pelvis, before easing back- and then slamming back in.

 

Yoosung gasped, shivering, grabbing at the pillows as Zen fucked him to some sort of inhuman rhythm. Almost off beat and hard enough to jostle his body each time, slamming into nerves that were going red hot by the second. Yoosung whined, a drawn out  _ Zen _ , before he shifted, trying to get his weight on one hand so he could touch himself.

 

“ _ No _ ,” Zen breathed, leaning over him and grasping at his shoulder, forcing him to bend lower, to raise his ass higher. “You don’t get to.” Yoosung gasped, eyes wide, but he didn’t pull away, didn’t  _ fight _ it. He shoved himself back onto Zen’s cock harder, listened to the way his boyfriend was panting. “You don’t- get to… tease me like that. And then get  _ everything you want _ .” Zen gripped his shoulder tighter, drove in and arched himself, balls tight and aching but  _ fuck _ if he’d let himself come just yet.

 

Yoosung groaned, low in his chest and throat, spread his knees just a bit more. His body was clenching up around Zen, wound so damn tightly he wanted to burst. But he couldn’t get off like this, and he knew that  _ Zen knew _ that too. Very, very well.

 

“Zen,  _ honey _ ,” Yoosung whimpered, trying to sound sweet, and Zen just wanted to dig his teeth into the back of his neck. He bared them, his wet hair tangled around his neck and shoulders, sticking to him almost uncomfortably. Not that he cared, in that moment.

 

“You’re so wet,” Zen mused, his voice low, steady- too calm for how his heart was racing. “Do you want something,  _ baby boy _ ?”

 

Yoosung screwed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as his belly nearly rolled over in the most exquisite way, as he  _ almost _ reached the tipping point- “Just let me  _ come _ .”

 

Zen shook his head, leaning over Yoosung and engulfing him. He began to lose his rhythm, and Yoosung gasped, pushing back harder, knowing Zen was close and feeling a rush of heat and wetness between his legs over the mere  _ idea _ that he was going to come. Zen gasped, ragged breaths dragging noises up from his chest, before he groaned, and his hips stuttered, before finally stilling.

 

They were both panting, as Zen very carefully pulled back. Yoosung whimpered when he was empty, as Zen flopped over onto the bed next to him, staring up at the ceiling. Yoosung collapsed, pressing his cheek into the pillow and shaking, worked back up so high that he was sure he’d  _ die _ if he didn’t get a little friction, a little relief.

 

But before he could say something, before he could torment his boyfriend into diving back between his legs, Zen’s phone was buzzing, left on his nightstand. Zen sat up, took a moment to pull the condom off and tie it off, leaving it with the forgotten box and wrapper, before leaning over Yoosung. He made a point to brush against him, to feel his warm skin, the fabric of his tank top which was rucked up to his waist now, as he grabbed it, glancing at the name before smirking.

 

He flopped back down, answering it and holding it to his ear, as Yoosung watched with wide, pretty eyes. “Hey trustfund.”

 

He heard a huff, and he  _ knew _ the annoyed look Jumin would have. “You are insufferable.”

 

“Mmm, but you  _ love _ it.” He glanced over at Yoosung, who was watching, still squirming, cheeks flushed. “I’ve got a visitor.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. I think he might want to talk to  _ you _ , actually.” Zen held the phone out, and Yoosung turned onto his side, took it and swallowed thickly.

 

“Jumin?” His voice was breathy,  _ wanton _ , and Zen could just  _ picture _ the way Jumin’s eyes would go wide for a moment, before his composure was back, that godlike smirk pulling at his lips. Knew how when Yoosung was  _ this _ turned on, it was impossible to not want to play. “Zen won’t let me  _ come _ .”

 

“Put him on speaker,” Zen said, reaching over. Yoosung’s hand was shaking as he pulled the phone from his face, clicking the icon, before Zen was rolling him properly onto his back. “I think I should get to  _ explain _ this a little.” Zen slid his hand beneath Yoosung’s shirt, rubbing it up his chest. It skidded over one of his scars. “See Jumin, I came home and Yoosung had just  _ dropped _ by unannounced. I disappear to shower, and what do I find after? Him sprawled out on my bed getting off like this is  _ his room _ .” He got Yoosung’s nipple between his fingers, pinched  _ hard _ and drew out a little gasp. He knew Yoosung wasn’t overly sensitive there, not since his surgery- but with enough pressure and  _ power _ , he could feel. “I ate him out  _ already _ .”

 

“And then  _ fucked me _ \- what do you expect?” Yoosung’s breath hiccuped, and Zen smirked, leaning down to nuzzle his neck. There was silence for a moment, before-

 

“You are ever the brat, Yoosung.” Jumin’s voice was slow, steady in ways no one’s should be. It made the small of Zen’s back prickle, the skin almost itch in this strange, writhing way. Made him want to press his face against his thigh and  _ nuzzle _ until Jumin stroked his hair like a damn kitten.

 

Yoosung whined, arching as Zen rolled his nipple between his fingers again, before his hand was sliding back down, over the soft flesh of his belly, pausing to rub his fingertips into the brown hair just above his mound. “Baby boy thinks he can get whatever he wants.”

 

Jumin hummed, and Zen could just hear the creak of his chair, as he leaned back. “Brat as he may be- you are  _ too _ . It isn’t fair to leave him like that…” Zen sucked at his tongue,  _ waiting _ for what he knew was coming… “Get him off for me, Zen. Let me hear.”

 

Zen grinned, fingers sliding lower, pressing between Yoosung’s friction-warm lips. The rubbed down towards his hole, Zen shivering because he was still soaking wet- before they moved back up, began slow circles around his clit. Yoosung sighed, tipped his head back, the phone dropping and laying on his chest as he reached up, grasped at the pillow.

 

“He’s so wet,” Zen mused, wishing that Jumin was right  _ there _ to see this. To talk him through it. He wasn’t at the point of admitting how damn much that did for him- but it was obvious, and he  _ knew _ that. “So  _ hot _ . Too bad you can’t be here to take him too.”

 

Another hum, and Yoosung shivered, lifting his hips and grinding against Zen’s fingers. He was still riding so close to a second high that he could barely think. “Could climb right in Jumin’s chair,” Yoosung whispered, eyes half lidded and staring up at the ceiling. “Ride him right in his office.”

 

Zen smirked, moving his fingers faster now. “Yeah? Ad I could lick his cock clean. Bet he’d like that.” He glanced at the phone, and for a brief moment, he could  _ hear  _ Jumin breathe. The smallest hitch, a catch that no one would notice if they didn’t know to look.

 

Zen had  _ done _ that, and he knew how much both his boyfriends loved it.

 

“Yoosung.” Jumin’s voice was still controlled, however. But Zen knew if they had more time, if they kept this up, they could unravel him. “Gorgeous, is he touching you  _ right _ ?”

 

Yoosung nodded, biting at his lip. “Almost- there,” he gasped, and that earned them both a chuckle.

 

“Good.” Another creak of Jumin’s chair. “If I had more time, I’d consider locking this door…” Yoosung whined, pushing against Zen’s fingers, and Zen swore his cock throbbed despite his recent orgasm.

 

“Yeah?” he asked. “And do what? Enlighten us  _ your highness _ .”

 

“Think about our prince riding me like he  _ should _ ,” Jumin said, without a hint of hesitation. “With your hands on his hips, your mouth on mine.”

 

Zen groaned, louder than Yoosung did, before the blond was thrashing, gasping and shaking all over. Zen turned and nuzzled his neck, breathed in his sweat and the lingering smell of his shampoo from that morning, as Yoosung gave a loud cry- one Zen figured could have been heard clearly from Jumin’s phone if anyone walked in- before he was collapsing and gasping for breath, his oragasm slowing. Zen smiled, kissed his pulse and didn’t stop until Yoosung was limp and smiling. Only then did he pull his hand back, left it rest on his belly.

 

“Better?” Jumin asked, and Yoosung nodded, a lazy  _ yeah _ filling the room. “Hmph. Good. We can’t have you  _ wanting _ now can we?”

 

Zen lifted his head, glancing at the phone, almost as if he might  _ see _ Jumin there. “Spoiled prince and a spoiled king. What does that leave me?”

 

“A fool.” Jumin didn’t hesitate, and Zen  _ knew _ the smile he boasted, knew the smug and somehow  _ heart-stoppingly attractive _ look to his face. “But you keep us entertained, darling.”

 

“I  _ shouldn’t _ for that comment.” Zen sighed. “Did you want something? We sort of…. Bombarded you with that.”

 

“Just to hear your voice. I seem to have gotten more than I anticipated.” There was a pause, and Zen figured Jumin was shifting about. “I cannot stay. I believe we’re lucky we were not interrupted during that…”

 

Zen bit back a laugh. “Jaehee would have all our heads if she walked in on that  _ again _ .”

 

Yoosung snorted. “I’d feel so  _ bad _ .”

 

“Yes. We were lucky this time.” Another pause. “The two of you should come see me tonight. I won’t be that late. I can have someone let you in…”

 

“Inviting us to the castle?” Zen asked, sitting up properly. Yoosung followed, combing his fingers back through his blond mess of hair.

 

“Perhaps. Think you can earn your keep?”

 

Zen grinned. “I know a challenge when I hear on. You’re  _ on _ , trustfund. Better clear your schedule for tomorrow morning- we’re all going to be up late.” He glanced over at Yoosung, who was smiling, this border-line wicked look he got that still masqueraded as an innocence Zen knew he completely lacked.

 

“ _ Good _ . I rather like when you show me up, Zen.”


End file.
